


Traveling Soldier

by merycula (thanksillpass)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 21:11:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanksillpass/pseuds/merycula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wade comes home after a mission with Thunderbolts and refuses to take off his mask for some reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traveling Soldier

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Português brasileiro available: [Traveling Soldier](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095362) by [GabbyD BR (GabbyD)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabbyD/pseuds/GabbyD%20BR)
  * Translation into Русский available: [Traveling Soldier](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5232584) by [Apolline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apolline/pseuds/Apolline)



Peter looked up from his coffee when Wade walked into the kitchen with a loud yawn. He was wearing the same ratty t-shirt and sauce-covered boxers he went to sleep in last night. Not that Peter was supposed to know that because Wade sneaked in in the middle of the night, trying really poorly not to wake him. After three weeks, he didn’t even say hi. And worst of all, he didn’t take off his mask; he fell asleep in it, and he came to breakfast in it. To say that Peter was concerned was an understatement.  

“Good morning, sweetums!” Wade greeted him cheerily, stretching. “Long time no see, eh?”

“You can’t wear that around the house,” Peter blurted, pointing at Wade’s mask with his spoon.

Wade barked out a laugh. “You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real mom!” He leaned in for a kiss but Peter pulled away. “WTF, Peter?”

“I’m not kissing it.”

Wade tensed at the words and Peter could feel his eyes boring into him. “What the fuck is your problem, Peter?”

He bit his lip.  _Of course_  it was Peter who  _obviously_  had a problem. Absolutely  _nothing_ wrong with wearing a fucking mask in their  _home_. It wasn’t a fucking brothel or a hotel where Wade should feel the need to hide. “You know very well.”

“I don’t believe I do.”

Peter clenched his jaw. He knew he was playing with fire – Wade’s tone was cold and distant, like he was talking to a stranger – but Peter was angry. Not as much at Wade as at himself; because if Wade couldn’t do without his mask even around him, after all this time… what was the point of all this?

Peter weighed his options. There was clearly more to this than Wade simply forgetting to take off his mask; he didn’t do that anymore. Peter spent a good deal of time and effort making sure Wade would never feel uncomfortable or unattractive around him; that home was the place where they didn’t have to be who they were  _out there_ ; that there was only them and nothing else mattered.

What was Peter supposed to say?  _“Baby, please, don’t be difficult”_? It wasn’t about refusing to go to a party. Wade’s mask was like a wall even Peter couldn’t crawl over, and he worked way too hard to tear it down to just let Wade put it back together again. So he had to say  _something_.

But before he could, Wade grabbed his shoulder and spun him around so they could face each other. He could see the line of his eyebrows drawn together angrily. “It’s a part of me, Peter,” he spat. “And you can deny it all you want, we can play house ‘til the day you fucking die, but with or without the mask, I’m still a  _monster_.”

Peter wasn’t scared. He knew he could easily overpower Wade, but he couldn’t help but tremble. It hurt,  _so much_ , to hear Wade call himself that again. “Wade, you’re not,” he stammered, thankful that his voice didn’t fail him, and put his hand on Wade’s.

This time it was Wade who pulled away, and Peter felt like a failure. He was naïve, he thought he could stop trying, that- that he fixed everything. He thought everything would be alright now. Ever since Wade joined Thunderbolts, he seemed like he had finally found his place; like he finally became a hero he wanted to be. It didn’t matter what Peter though, what was important was that Wade was  _proud_  of himself. He would always serve Peter with latest gossip about other members, and talk excitedly about his heroic deeds, and make fun of Samuel’s head. He seemed… happy.

“Wade, you’re not a monster,” Peter tried again. “You’re a hero…”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Wade seethed. “We’re no heroes. We’re killers.”

“Wade, what’s going on? It’s not like you to-”

“What’s not like me? Do you think you know me? _I_ don’t even know me!”

Peter flinched. Wade’s voice was filled with anger and self-disgust and it cut Peter like a knife. Wade huffed and leaned against the sink, crossing his arm. Peter got up carefully and reached out to touch him, but he brushed him off. “Don’t touch me. I’m disgusting.”

“You’re not,” he whispered, gently sliding his hand up Wade’s arm.

Wade didn’t push him away, but he tensed and started breathing slowly through his nose. He let Peter put his arms around his back and rest his chin in the crook of his neck. “I was going to just pretend. Forget. Eventually. But you had to push, didn’t you. You always push me. You always try to help, to fix things. But not this time. I can’t have you looking at me. Not after what we did. What I did.”

Peter swallowed and hugged him a little bit tighter. He could feel Wade shaking so he started stroking his back soothingly. “Tell me what happened, Wade.”

“It was an accident!” Wade sobbed out, wrapping his arms around Peter’s middle, almost crushing his ribs. Peter didn’t mind.

“I believe you. And I won’t judge you. Just talk to me, baby.”

Wade took a deep breath and Peter closed his eyes. He knew he was about to hear something horrible, that he had to brace himself. He could handle it, whatever it was, he would handle it. Because Wade couldn’t, Peter would handle that for him. No matter what.

“They were just kids, Peter…”


End file.
